


Where Were You?

by darkforetold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After weeks of chasing Dick Roman, Dean returns to check up on Castiel. Part of him expected the angel to be happy to see him. Expectations oftentimes fall short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Were You?

**Author's Note:**

> Written in April 2014. Transferring over from Livejournal to AO3. This is a dream a friend had and requested it be written.

_My heart was taken by you, broken by you_  
 _and now is in pieces because of you._

**— author unknown**

 

It had been several weeks since he had left Cas back in the mental hospital. Chasing Dick for that long hadn’t turned up shit, proving that the son of a bitch had always been two steps ahead of them. Here and now, Dean stood in front of the door to Cas’ room, not knowing what he’d find on the other side. His darkest nightmare told Dean that he’d find Cas torn to shreds, bloody and broken. Reality showed him that his dream wasn’t so far off. Through the window in the door, Dean could see how broken Cas was. The angel stared down at the floor, his face blank. It was strangely stoic, yet distant with a touch of lingering _horror_. Shell-shocked as if he had been tortured for hours on end. Dean knew that look. Fuck, he knew it too well. It was the face of hopelessness, of agony—the same expression cut into his victims’ faces. Just after—just after Dean had gotten through with them.

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and fought back the memories of Hell. He concentrated on Cas instead, noting the distant look in his eyes. Dean saw nothing there. No glimmer of light at all in those expressive blue eyes. Looking at him now, so lost, tore Dean’s heart to fucking pieces. The ache in his chest, the emptiness riding on his shoulders, the goddamn _guilt_ —all of It nearly took his breath away.

He tried to beat back the depression, tried to keep it from showing on his face. With the clench of his jaw, Dean put on his tough exterior, the defensive shell that protected him from all the bullshit. The same outer layer that failed to prevent him from getting hurt over and over again. It was almost as if his heart were destined to bleed.

When Dean passed over the threshold to Cas’ room, he could feel himself bleed just a little bit more. Cas didn’t react to his presence, oblivious the outside world. He kept staring at the floor with that vacant look on his face. With the clearing of his throat, Dean whispered—

“Cas.”

—and his voice cracked with the effort. Dean knew he had said it loud enough for Cas to hear, but the angel didn’t respond. When he finally did, Dean’s heart leapt with _hope_ ; something that crashed and burned when their eyes met. Instead of recognition, instead of relief, Cas’ blue eyes flew open wide in horror. Dean froze. Throwing his heart into a fucking blender would have had the same exact result.

“Cas?”

With a cry of fear, Cas inched his way along the bed, horror practically blinding him. Dean could only watch as Cas struggled to stand, backing up to pin himself against the wall. Just as he had when he had first seen whatever fucked up shit was in his head. The fact that Dean caused _that_ much fear in Cas—

Dean felt nauseous, but quickly dismissed it, stepping closer to Cas with his hands up and spread wide in surrender. “Cas. Come on, man. It’s me. _Dean_.”

It was as if Cas didn’t recognize him. The angel continued to slide away from him, along the wall to eventually trap himself in a corner. He cried out as Dean came in hard and fast, grabbing his hands and holding them firmly. Cas struggled wildly against him, trying to get away, but Dean held him close. “Cas—“

Dean could feel the angel tremble against him, wiggling his body in hopes of getting away. “Goddamnit, Cas—what’s _wrong_ with you?”

With a twist and the yank of arms, Cas freed himself with an animalistic growl. Dean grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back, struggling with him down to the floor. There, Dean held him tight, pressing him hard against his chest until Cas stopped fighting him. Dean could feel Cas’ breath against his neck, playing out hot notes of _fear_ , _agony_ and _torture_ along his skin. Dean couldn’t imagine the horrors playing inside his head. Horrors possibly worse than his own.

After moments of this, warm against each other, Dean loosened his grip on him. The angel stayed close, leaning back just enough to take in a deep breath, to calm down. Dean stole that moment to send soft fingers against his face, to lean and rest and touch their foreheads together—anything for a chance to _feel_ him. Cas didn’t dare look at him, keeping his eyes to the ground. It was then that Cas seemed to remember, suddenly aware of the danger sitting so close to him. He began to struggle.

“Hey, _hey_ , it’s me. _Dean_. Don’t be afraid.” Dean brushed a hand against his face. “Come on, man. Tell me you remember.”

Cas closed his eyes tight and said nothing.

“You're blood. _My_ blood. Right? Come on, Cas. Give me something.” Dean looked for a spark of recognition. Nothing. Guilt clawed at his soul.

“What’s happened to you?” His words were a whisper against his face, his touch even softer, fingers so light against his skin that Dean thought even that might break him. Right then, he felt sick with the guilt of leaving Cas behind, his chest tightening with its weight. “I’m sorry, Cas. I shouldn’t have ever left you. Not like this.”

Dean caught a tear with his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against Cas’ cheekbone. The angel flinched back and whimpered as if he had been stung by a monster. All Dean wanted to do was to soothe his fears, wipe them all away. He placed a chaste kiss on his lips and cupped his face. “Hey, I'm here.” He thumbed another tear away from his cheek. “I got you.”

Slowly, Cas finally lifted his head to look up at him. He was so delicate like this, trembling with fear. When Cas opened his mouth to talk, Dean held his breath.

“You’re not real, are you?”  



End file.
